The Dwarfs
by Trevin911
Summary: A fanfic that tells the tale of the rebuilding of Moria. Author's Notes- This story is thousands of years after the destruction of the Ring.
1. Slóp and Friends

Morier- Evil One (Elvish)

Bragol Alaa- Strength (Elvish)

I don't own Lord of the Rings...

Italicized words are of another language.

Chapter 1: Slóp and Friends

Slóp and his fellow Dwarfs marched through the abyss called Khazad-dûm. They were on a mission to rebuild the grand city of the Durin folk. But there is a problem, majority of the Dwarven race was wiped out by the War... Not the War of the Ring, but The War. The War was a thousand year old war between Men and Elven folk. Soon after the war started both sides begged for the help of the Dwarfs. For some odd reason the Dwarfs sided with the Elves, many say it had to deal with Gimli's affiliation with Legolas. Gimli was the Dwarven King at the time, yet he is now long gone and the Dwarfs have no king...

Felix crept close behind Slóp the whole trek through the dark place. Quite seldom was Felix referred to as 'brave'. A pebble slid off Felix's boot and tumbled down the stairs they were descending. _Clank! Clank! Clank!_ The company stopped, waiting to hear if there was anything awoken in the deep annals of this place. Not many people venture into Moria these days... But the Dwarfs have a mission.

Slóp plopped his stout self down on a rock and opened up his pack, he grabbed from the leather bag a piece of fruit, and he took a bite and passed it around. His companions let him know their displeasure with groans. He soothed, "Look it's either that or eat your own beard!" That quickly stifled the quarrel. As the fruit was making its second time around the group a clatter was heard and their torch died. Slóp swung his axe over his shoulder and his fellow drew their weapons. All save one... The Dwarf named Fornbogi drew his bow... In common his name stood for Ancient Bow.

They heard several hustling noises and stifles. Slóp wiped his eyes in the pitch darkness to clear the stinging sweat from his sight. Felix dropped to his knees and retrieved a rock, with a swift strike he lit the torch once again to reveal four Goblins peering through the musty chamber. Slóp commanded, "Identify yourself _Morier_!" The goblins replied with a hiss of dismay and drew their notched swords. Fornbogi let go of his notched arrow and dropped one of the goblins, Slóp leapt forward with the swiftness of an eagle and relieved a goblin of his head. Surprisingly Felix also struck, within moments the goblins were gone. Slóp wiped his axe of blood and said, "There are probably more… Have you lot heard the story of Gandalf the Grey and the Balrog?" Nobody answered until the quiet Fornbogi finally spoke, "I have… The Balrog is gone he took care of it… Trust me." Slóp smiled and they set out further into Khazad-dûm.

"Look…" whispered Slóp, "it's the grave of Gimli son of Glóin. Felix dropped to his knees seemingly worshipper the casket of Gimli. Slóp admired Felix for one thing, he had the chance to meet Gimli and himself hadn't. Their leader commanded, "Come on we must make haste to reach the throne room and start rebuilding." Felix quickly rose and while he was leaving he let his hand feel the cool gems that were encrusted into the coffin.

That was several some years ago, but our tale begins with the Khazad-dûm empire in it's best.

Slóp sat on his jewel set throne as a single ray of sunshine peered down into the chasm from a fissure far above his head. There was a problem growing in Moria, the problem of Goblin infestation. Fornbogi informed, "Sir the only possible place they are spawning from is Mount Gundabad, the Old New capital of Goblins," Slóp nodded, "Are you suggesting war? We are still young Fornbogi, we have not the force to take Gundabad… We yet to reproduce warriors first we must rally the scattered Dwarves and bring them hear to Khazad-dûm! _Bragol Alaa _in Khazad-dûm!"

So set out five Dwarves Fornbogi the Archer, Felix the Fast, Darri the Spearman, Galarr the Healer, and Jari the Mean.


	2. Fair Ladies of the Dwarfs

Chapter 2: Fair Ladies of the Dwarfs

Slóp had gathered his most trusted companions in his hall. He spoke,

"Fellow I have gathered you here to set you loyal ones on a quest. A quest to find the Dwarven Ladies fair. I have several connections and have pinpointed their position. All that is needed is to persuade them to come with you home. And you have two choices to make your trip. One: leave through the western gates of Khazad-dûm and ascend the peaks and cross the perilous summit of the Misty Mountains, or exit to the eastern gates, cross the Celebrant and ascend up another mountain to find the ladies. Now many of you may know of this place. Dimrill Dale, the historic battlefield of Dwarven and Orc folk. The ladies have remained there in mourning, but once they learn of Morias return they will gladly refuge in Khazad-dûm. So now gather your supplies and make haste!"

Fornbogi and company set out early the next day; they chose the Eastern path and exited Moria. Within hours they came upon the rushing yet gentle Celebrant. Fornbogi asked, "Would any you lot happen to know how deep this river is?" The company was silent; Fornbogi sighed and drew his hatchet. He trotted over to a nearby tree and hewed a good sized branch. He walked to the banks of the river and poked the stick into the river. He informed, "Ok men we have two choices, take the long way around, perhaps delaying us a day or just cross the river. But the river would come up to our chests. You're choice men." After a few minutes of debate they decided to cross the river. Fornbogi would go first he stripped off his valuables and hurled them over the river, safe from being spoiled. He held his breath and waded into the bone chilling glacier water. He chillingly forded the river with effort, once on the other side he waved to the others.

The rest of the company made it safely, save one. Felix the Fast wasn't so lucky. He was the last one across. He tip toed into the water and once he was in leaping distance to the bank he lost his footing, thanks to the quick hands of Darri he was caught by a stout hand. The river was proving more powerful as it knocked Felix further away. Darri shouted, "I can't hold him much longer!" With the help of the others they dragged him closer. When all of a sudden the water rose and swept Felix out of Darri's grasp. Galarr shot his eyes up the mountain surrounding the river, somehow the snow avalanched off the mountain into the river, causing a tidal wave. Darri dropped to the damp grass and a tear wet his cheek. Fornbogi said solemnly, "Let's camp here."

For the rest of the evening Galarr's eyes never left the mountain for long. Fornbogi got Galarr alone and said, "What is it wise one?" Galarr rasped between drags on his pipe, "That avalanche…Wasn't natural." Fornbogi pondered, "What are you implying?" Galarr rasped, "Not sure but I believe there is a greater work afoot here."

Buggug ran across the snowy trail with his company of other Goblins. When they reached the cliff he hissed, "There they are! So Klog was right, there is a company of Dwarves let's decimate them!" Buggug ordered his group, "On three we will push this rock to start an avalanche, but we must wait, if they try to ford the river they will die!" Several hisses and grunts were made in approval.

"Okay here they go! Push!" the group of Goblins pushed the mass of rock and with effort it budged and began to roll down the mountainside. Buggug cheered as the boulder raced down the snowy hill. "There it goes!" shouted a goblin as the snow and rock landed in the water. A huge wave rose up and rushed over the river. The goblins did not stay to see the result they retreated to their stronghold.

The next morning Fornbogi roused the down trodden Dwarves with a speech:

"We mustn't let Felix hinder our trek; do you think he would wish for us to stop in his account? The great Celebrant is his grave, may his soul protect the water from all evils. Galarr has suspected someone or something triggered the avalanche. One: there is a heap of snow at the mouth of the river with a boulder resting in front of it in the water. Two: may Durin bless those poor souls if we get a hold of them!"

His little speech aroused the men a little, but not by much. Fornbogi packed his tent with the others and said, "Let us go, remember your pipes Dwarf perhaps it will calm you." Fornbogi lit his pipe as they walked towards the base of yet another mountain. After a few silent minutes Galarr opened up in a song:

"_O'er the rushing rapids of the Silverlode_

_Lo and behold it has claimed another soul_

_A fair soul be at that _

_May the angry souls sleep in peace"_

Darri made up the next part:

"_Lost a fair soul we have_

_Continue our quest we must_

_We will find the _

_Fair ladies of our race_

_Bring them back to Khazad-dûm_

_For the glory of Durin!"_

The song ended for nobody had the inspiration to continue the song so they marched for hours silently. So day two had ended and they are now at the base of the mountain which holds Dimrill Dale.

"Up and ready," shouted Fornbogi, "We must ascend this mountain today and today only!" Within minutes the company was packed and ready with a burst of new vigor. By noon they had ascended half of the mountain they had six hours to reach Dimrill Dale before nightfall and climbing a mountain in night is treacherous.

The sun was now beginning to sink behind the mountains as the company became ever closer to the summit. Within a few thousand feet of the summit they heard a strange singing and music and aroma of foods. This drove the Dwarfs to climb faster. And before nightfall they reached the summit, yet nowhere was a village seen. Galarr prodded, "Seems as if we are either imagining the noise and smell or we've missed something. Let us sleep for our senses will be greater tomorrow." Darri said eagerly, "But we are so close! We still have hours of the night left!" But the posse agreed on settling in.

Galarr, Darri, and Jari entertained each other as Fornbogi was out gathering wood for a fire. Fornbogi drew his axe and approached a tree, he swung his cutting axe at a branch and it fell from the tree with ease.

"Look," whispered Ingi the Fair to her maidens, "there is a man Dwarf!" How is this so?" Ingi walked over to the laboring Dwarf and said, "Greetings my strong one my name is Ingi the Fair, you appear to be a Dwarf are you not?" The Dwarf was surprised for he dropped his hatchet to the earth and said, "Y-yes I am a Dwarf." Ingi waited, "Have you a name?" Fornbogi said, "Oh of course. _Aherm!_ My name is Fornbogi I am in service of Slóp the King of Khazad-dûm." Ingi and her maidens gasped with a surprise. She recollected herself, "You must come with us and tell us your story for we must hear it!"

Galarr's eyes peeled open to the sunlight of a new day. He immediately shot up and looked around for Fornbogi. He shook his fellow and said, "Awake! Have you seen Fornbogi? For he has not returned!" The sleeping Dwarfs groaned with dismay as they woke themselves. "Alas! I have returned!" a familiar voice announced. Galarr jumped up and asked, "Where were you? You didn't return last night? Get carried away with wood?" Fornbogi chuckled, "No my fair friend, follow me I have treat for you all, pack the camp and follow!"

Fornbogi said, "Here we are now follow me!" He pulled a branch on a tree and the tree slid aside and revealed a gaping hole with a ladder protruding. Fornbogi was the first down, followed by Darri, Galarr, and then Jari. Jari marveled, "Oh my… Look at them!" Galarr was shocked for this was the first time he has heard Jari speak a word aloud. The cavern was laden with several ladies and food. Galarr whispered to Fornbogi, "Have you persuaded them back to Moria yet?" Fornbogi nodded no.


	3. Winning the Fair Hearts

Mela- Love

Lye naa lle nai- We are yours to command.

Chapter 3: Winning the Fair Hearts

Fornbogi downed his glass of frothy ale as the music around him erupted. All around him was merry, food and several barrels of home made Dwarven Ale. The four remaining male Dwarfs were certainly enjoying themselves. Around noon the festivities winded down and the ladies went back to their normal life, Fornbogi took advantage of the stillness and approached Ingi, "Greetings my fair lady." Ingi replied shyly, "Why hello my brethren." Fornbogi asked, "I have a question to impose upon you." Ingi got serious, "Okay continue." Fornbogi asked, "Slóp wishes you to come live with us at Khazad-dûm and reproduce our race to what it once was." Ingi's face drained here lively color as she answered, "Well Fornbogi that isn't as easy as it sounds. You must win my heart in order for us to return with you, we will hold a _Mela_. But you must win my heart none of the others may."

The whole populace of Dimrill Dale stood upon the plateau tucked away in the Misty Mountains, glaring at the four Dwarves dressed in only leather pants, no shirt. The crowd silenced as Ingi explained the first contest, "This first competition is called the Woodcutter. You must hew a whole tree and hew clean logs; the first one with six logs wins the first of three contests."

Ingi let out a piercing whistle and the contestants were off. Fornbogi hewed the first tree and began chipping the bark, slowly shaping the logs. Darri also was already carving his logs, but Galarr and Jari were slower on the first stage. The contest was now between Jari and Fornbogi. It was a race to place the logs at Ingi's feet. Sweat drenched Fornbogi as his miniature legs pumped like a piston. Jari was four fifteen feet away when his foot got caught on a root and he fumbled forwards. Fornbogi finished the race and won.

"Now this is a simple foot race. From here to that yew tree over yonder, on my whistle." She let out the signal and the Dwarves were off. Galarr was in front as his legs supplied his speed. Then came Dari, then Fornbogi, and in last was Jari. Fornbogi passed Dari and was on Galarr's tail when the mystic enchanter had a burst of speed. He finished the race.

Now it was between Galarr and Fornbogi a championship for her heart. Ingi informed the Dwarves, "This last contest is a fight, between the two last contestants, no weapons or armor just skin on skin."

Fornbogi glared at Galarr as they circled each other. Galarr struck first with a haymaker. Fornbogi sidestepped the punch and countered with an elbow the rib cage. This blow rattled Galarr but he quickly regained his composure. So the fight continued for fifteen minutes when there was a winner declared. That winner was Fornbogi.

"So you have my heart, strong one my people will now follow you through peril or joy _lye naa lle nai!_" Fornbogi smiled as he descended the ladder into the earth to gather supplies. The convoy packed the necessities such as food and water. And so set off the four Dwarves along with nine hundred female Dwarves.

The first day was a slow day for their caravan was fairly large to be traveling a mountain, so it took around five hours to descend to the foot of the mountain. Then they came upon the perilous river Celebrant. This river pained each male Dwarf heart for the loss of Felix. Fornbogi and Galarr went across first and left Dari and Jari to help guide the women across. It went smoothly; no women were lost the only injuries sustained were the fear gained of that river. The sun descended behind the mountains, so ended day one.

Slow was the journey but eventually they reached Moria, it took them one week to move that seemingly short distance. Once the Dwarven convoy reached Khazad-dûm the men of Moria instantly picked out a bride and over the years reproduced Moria into a grand city once again.


	4. The Iron Fist

Namaarie- Farewell

Naugrim- Dwarf

Mela- Love

Chapter 4: The Iron Fist

Our tale progressed five hundred years from the last events. We begin our story with Tóki the great grandson of Slóp. Slóp produced four children Vali, Narr, Frár, and Hlèvangr. Vali married his sister Narr, and Frár married her brother Hlévangr. Frár produced no children with Hlévangr but Vali and Narr produced two children Ôlgi and Vitr. Vitr married his sister Ôlgi and produced two children. Thus producing Tóki and he married another Dwarven of not blood named Grür. So begins our tale.

Vitr bid his advice to Tóki, "The goblins have increased over the years my son, my father Vali told me all about it when the goblins were scarce. Then he told me a great tale of four Dwarves who brought ladies to our land. But my intention was to inform you that you must do something fast about these cursed goblins. What do you say my son?" Tóki said, "Agreed but wise father when shall we strike? It will not be easy for Gundabad is very far from our lands. It would be a challenge just to get there!" Vitr soothed, "Calm my son, there are other places to find vermin then Mount Gundabad. Just open your eyes and you will find goblin encampments; send out a scout unit as soon as possible."

A week later the scouts had reported a goblin encampment, "Sire we have found a legion or so of goblins. They are stationed in a city atop a mount down where River Nimrodel meets the Misty Mountains." Tóki acknowledged, "Good now assemble your troops and I will ride out with you all to rid them. Together we shall lay down our Iron Fist!" The Dwarf scouts bowed and left, Vitr crept from the shadows, "Good my son, now be sure to use your Archers, this is the first time they have seen action. We will see if they prove useful." Tóki headed and replied, "Okay, now father I would like you to take my seat here while I am gone. If I do not return you may choose a new King _namaarie_."

The next day set out ten thousand Dwarven warriors clad in Mithril chain mail that gleamed like the scales of a fish, each warrior was equipped with mithril battle axes and the archer divisions wielded yew bows and fired mithril tipped arrows, the Dwarves were also wearing studded leather leggings, the officers wore Adamant helmets and Adamant weapons. Tóki wore all Adamant chain armor and had a diamond encrusted into his helm. He also wields his custom axe named _Gorgamin_ which was Elvish for fear. The army marched as one.

In one day they made it as far as the second peak before the set down for camp. As the Dwarves were cooking, smoking, drinking or whatever their bid may be, Tóki boomed, "Archers! Unstring your bows for they will break if they are constantly strung, that goes for all of you! Do not be too serious too much, spare time for fun and play now that doesn't mean to piddle around in times when seriousness is essential!"

In one full week the army reached the designated area with no losses whatsoever. But what would come of the day ahead when they attacked the goblin mountain top camp? The camp held about twelve thousand goblins, they weren't trained just battle hardened, yet on the Dwarven side they were trained and had experienced little battle if any.

Atop the hill sat the goblins clad in standard leather goblin mail and leather leggings, most of them wielded wooden oval shields and iron swords. They had one division of archers consisting of five hundred, while the Dwarves had one thousand and five hundred in their arsenal.

Dawn came along with a hail of arrows from the goblin camp. The Dwarves let loose their own volley as soon as the archers readied. Tóki ordered, "Up the hill! Decimate every goblin there! For Khazad-dûm!" The Dwarven force charged up the hair against the onslaught of zipping arrows. Slowly but surely the Dwarfs reached the summit. Axes drawn the stout men charged at the Goblin force, swinging and slashing their axes at every possible foul creature. Tóki swung to his right, beheading one axe, to the right cleaving a limb. Every swing took apart another goblin. Then the fire came, the Dwarven archers lit their arrows and fired them, after the camp was ablaze the arrows stopped completely, leaving the foot soldiers to finish them off. When the battle seemed all but over a taller, thicker goblin appeared and when he spoke all fell silent, "I challenge your leader, half men!" This enraged Tóki and stepped forward, axe dripping from the dark blood of goblin. The Dwarf said nothing as he stepped to the goblin, unscathed by his height and bulk. When ten feet away he stopped and shifted into a ready position. He waited for the goblin to hit first.

The blow came swift and sudden; it was an overhead strike, meaning to cleave the Dwarf in two. Luckily Tóki dodged to his right and dug his axe into the goblin's side, blood oozing freely now, the goblin raised his knee and jarred the Dwarf's head. He stumbled back to regain his composure, he drew a throwing axe and threw it at the goblin; the axe lodged itself into the head of the goblin.

The remained goblins were slain and the dead were piled in a huge heap, as for the slain Dwarves, they were buried in a mass grave, armor and all. Nine thousand five hundred Dwarves remained. After a few weeks the camp became operational again, for Dwarf use. On Tóki's last day they held a feast in celebration of their victory.

Four thousand followed Tóki home to Moria and the rest stayed behind to maintain the camp. The Dwarves dubbed the camp _Naugrim Mela_.


	5. Elves and Such

Chapter 5: Elves and Such

So Tóki returned safely to Khazad-dûm and the Dwarves at Naugrim Mela found a useful resource that the Goblins had discovered earlier Adamant or better known as Diamonds. This was a great discovery because the resource was abundant in that area. This permitted the Dwarves to craft newer, better weapons.

After months of mass production of the new Adamant weapons the rising Dwarves were noticed by their Elvish neighbors of Mirkwood. A diplomat approached Tóki upon his golden throne, "Greetings fair Dwarf neighbor. I represent the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood. We extend our hand in a wish of an alliance. What would your answer be, fair one?"

Tóki thought it through and answered, "Agreed, would you oblige to my own offer and stay here for a night or two?" The Wood-Elf agreed to the offer. The Elf was respected with the utmost respect, ate only the best food and drank only the finest wine and best ale. The Elf was nourished with respect.

"I am sorry to leave you now, but I must return to my wooden kingdom under the canopy of Mirkwood. I wish to thank you for all your hospitality and you are welcome to visit us any time," bode farewell the Elf. Tóki chuckled, "I appreciate the offer, but the Dwarves do not belong in the woods." The diplomat replied, "True, but then again Elfs don't belong in the mountains," and with that he left in return to his forest.

Through the days the Elves and Dwarves became closer and the bond was strengthened by the several gifts they lavished each other with, such as the Dwarven adamant weapons and the glorious jewelry of the Elfs.

Then the Elves reported of yet another goblin village:

"Oh great King Under the Mountain I hail you in order to extend some knowledge we Elfs have stumbled upon. We have found a Goblin castle directly westward from the Gladden River. Together we believe we can rid them, we wish to help you to do this with our Elvish archers we will decimate them, and we will also allow you to remain in control of the castle, for we do not dwell on rocks."

Tóki took this all in and asked, "Does this fortress have a name?" The Elf replied, "Ah yes it does. It is called by _Penmet_." The Dwarven King confirmed, "Ok then we together shall strike upon the camp, we shall march on the first day of the new week, we will meet you at the River Gladden. We shall send you a scout to notify you. You may remain down the mountain and we will halt atop, together we shall march upon this filthy castle!"

The day before the march Tóki walked about his military force, arousing and inspecting his men. Every soldier was now laden with an adamant sword, adamant mail which shined like a fish in green murky water, and fire hardened green colored leather leggings. He gathered his men and gave them a speech:

"Great Dwarves we have achieved to rebuild Moria, exterminate goblins. You have achieved much! But we must thank our forefathers for providing us with this beautiful city. But business is at hand! Goblins have been found in a castle atop the River Gladden. This will be much bigger than our last encounter; we will need weapons of war this time. That is a problem though, so we shall divide our army into halves. One infantry half and one siege half. The ballista, ladders, and catapults shall walk upon the ground and depending on the location of the castle they may be eligible to fire from their. We will have aid! The Elfs of Mirkwood have agreed to our service. They will provide their famous Archers, so we will not need to bring ours along. Their archers are far more superior anyways so that may be for the better. But men remember our fathers and fight for their name! Slam the Iron Fist upon the goblins!"


End file.
